


This Is What Happens When You Take Out Something Important To The Show, Dammit!

by ShadeShadow234



Category: Gintama
Genre: AU, Darker at first, Gen, Joui Four, Joui War, Might not go very far, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8908129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeShadow234/pseuds/ShadeShadow234
Summary: "Sir, this planet appears suitable for life!" "Is there anyone already there?" "Yes sir! A race calling themselves Samurai." "Oh?" "Sir, if I may, this planet won't add much to our databases, they have nothing of note, no new technology." "Mm. Set course for the next Galaxy."
Or, the time the Amanto never invaded.





	1. Not All Aliens Want To Invade

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy... This is going to be a doozy to write, I can tell. (Mr. Guest from Catching Up, if you're here, worry not. I shall not be lazy!) 
> 
> I'm not good at humor, so any I try and sneak in will likely be lack lustre. (I like puns though...) just a warning in advance, if you want rolling on the floor gripping your sides laughter, look elsewhere. 
> 
> That being said, enjoy!

"Get lost, Demon!" The shop owner waved a sword in the air, brandishing it at the child who had taken off with a perfectly good, freshly baked loaf of bread. The child was called a Demon because of his appearance, silver hair and red eyes. They said he was marked by the devil, they did. Not even his parents wanted a cursed child, they said. 

They said many things, not very many of them nice. Inconspicuous whispers passed from house to house, as wives chatted over laundry. ' _Did you hear? It was kicked out of a shrine today.' 'Did you know! It bit a shine maiden when she tried to purify it!' 'You simply won't believe this, the old lady who was looking after him died! Serves her right!'_

Yes, they weren't nice things at all.

The boy tore down the street, hoping to reach home before the villagers got it in their heads to beat the Demon out of the village. Again. Fate was on his side, this time around, and he managed to slip out the village gates before they could catch him, cooling bread tucked close to his chest.

You see, when the boy was old enough for his eyes to lose their blue colour and his hair begin to grow, his mother had thrown a fit, wailing and screaming a Demon had killed her child and taken his place. 

Later that night an old lady had found him thrown out of the gates of the village, crying for his mother. She had taken him in, and raised him until he perhaps six, neither of them knew his birthday. Neither of them knew his name either, so the old lady simply called him Gintama, for she claimed his soul was silver.

 He didn't mind. The granny simply went by Sakata, as she had forgotten her first name a long time ago, and had only barely remembered Sakata, as it was carved into her arm.

Her husband hadn't been the nicest of people.

Navigating his way through the woods outside of his house, the boy barely avoided tripping on a stray root, which seemed to regrow the same way no matter how many times he went at it with an ax.(Don't tell Sakata) Soon after, the cottage he had been staying in with Sakata was in view, and the boy paused to catch his breath, before heading around back and sitting next to a large stone. 

"Gran, I know you don't want me to steal, you just never taught me how to cook that's all. I'm sure I'll figure it out sooner or later. Oh! You must be hungry!" The boy tore off half of the bread, and placed it on the rock. "There." 

He spent the rest of his meal chatting to the rock, no, the grave, until he slumped against it, asleep.

\--- --- ---

When he woke up the next day, the village was burning. The war had come. Any able bodied men were snatched by the Bakufu, so they could defend against the Samurai calling themselves Joui.

The boy found himself alone in the village, the woman and children having of fled in terror. After surveying the scene with blank eyes, the boy turned and went back home, taking the bread off of the grave. 

"The dead don't talk, and they don't eat." He told himself. 

Then, with tears that had refused to come before, the boy turned away, bit into the hardened pastry, and began to walk.


	2. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy's struggles on the battlefield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little darker, be warned.

When the boy ended up on his first battle field, he had curled up in a ditch, clutching his head and hoping that soon the shouts would fade and the screaming and squelching and clash of steel against steel would soon end, and that he would live.

When the sounds did stop, the boy carefully uncurled himself, before moving out onto the bloodied field. then, he'd begun to search corpses.

The dead don't eat, he told himself.

The onigiri he'd found had been caked in dirt (was that blood? No no no, don't think about it) and pecked by crows, but he hadn't had anything to eat for perhaps a week, and had gobbled the balls of rice down, only gagging slightly. Food was valuable, and he wouldn't waste it because his stomach hurt.

He got sick the next day, and had to rub mud into his hair to make it appear brown before stumbling into a small village, making sure to avoid eye contact. They'd treated him willingly, given him somewhere to sleep, and fed him. When he woke up the next morning a kindly lady had taken it upon herself to get him washed. When the mud came out she ran screaming he was a demon.

The boy grabbed a cozy blue haori that was a couple sizes too big, and ran before they could catch him.

\--- --- ---

The second time he'd been on a battle field, he'd forced himself out of hiding, and had run headlong into the battle, snatching a sword that had been sticking out of a corpse, its wielder nearby with his throat slit.

 The onigiri he got that day had not been caked in mud or pecked at by crows, but came at the cost of two young, bloodstained hands.

\--- --- ---

They began calling him 'The Corpse Eating Demon' as the boy would sit on corpses to eat his onigiri. He simply had nowhere else to sit, unwilling to sit in the mud. As such, he'd find the least bloody corpse he could, sit down, and begin to eat. 

The dead are dead, he told himself, as he perched on a mans chest.

\--- --- ---

This was the boy's life for four years, running, fighting, eating, barely sleeping, and being called Demon. 

But then, one day, after a particularly gruesome battle, an hand found its way onto the boys head, and a voice rang out in the stillness of the carnage surrounding them. "I heard there was a corpse eating Demon out here, but all I've found is a little boy. Quite a cute Demon, aren't you?"

The boy had growled and sprung away, pulling out his latest bloodstained sword, the swords he found on the battlefield never lasted long, but the man simply smiled. "A sword is no good if you only use it to protect yourself." and he had drawn his sword and tossed it to the boy, careful to not hurt him in the process. "Follow me if you wan to learn how to use that."

The boy looked at the shiny sword in his hand, much unlike the bloodstained swords the boy was used to.  

He followed.

\--- --- ---

It wasn't until the next day when they had exchanged names. Well, as best as they could. "My name is Yoshida Shouyo. May I ask yours?" the boy had started, and looked up at Shouyo, before frowning and trying to remember a time before the war. "Sa...Sakata Gin..." he trailed off, trying to remember. Shouyo placed a hand on his shoulder, ad smiled. "How about Gintoki? Because some day you'll be silver. Maybe not today, but I can see the potential in you to be silver, and in time you will be. Perhaps not gold, but gold is overrated, is it not?" Gintoki had smiled in the first time for years, and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Shouyo kind of popped out at me from nowhere. I meant to hold him back for another chapter or two, but alas, here he is.


	3. Announcement

Hello everyone. As you may have noticed, this isn't a chapter. You see, I would love to continue writing this, and I hate when I have to discontinue a story... But... I've just watched episode 317, and in light of the things that's been revealed to me I don't think I can pull this off. I wish I could say that it was no problem, and that I could rewrite Gintama without Amanto.. Yet now thanks to the things I now know I think Gintama without the Amanto is something that simply cannot be done, or if it can, it should be done by someone far more talented than me. For all my...bravado, I suppose, I'm still swinging blind in writing. Call the Jiraia of fanfiction, my stories are constructed on webs and Gintama just burnt this one down. I'm sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of short. I'll try and lengthen the chapters as I go along, but no promises. Also, my knowledge of early Japan, or Edo is pitiful, sorry if anything is horribly wrong. Let me know. I'll fix it! :D


End file.
